346 Field, Forest, and Wayside Flowers 



wood- thrushes ask each other: a question expressed 

 in a rising cadence, which passes into silence before 

 we can fully enjoy the exquisite timbre of its in- 

 dividual tones. 



And after the question has been many times re- 

 peated, there comes at last, from far across the 

 sunlit fields, that falling cadence which is the sweet 

 and satisfying answer to it. 



Is he prophet as well as poet, this wood-thrush, 

 with his work-a-day brown jacket and spotted vest? 

 After our many questionings will we get our an- 

 swer too, altogether satisfying and utterly sweet? 

 The thrush seems appalled at such grave question- 

 ings, and flits off to his friends in the tree-tops who 

 have not learned to "look before and after." And 

 as we see the last flicker of his wings we thank 

 him not only for his song, but also for its suggested 

 parable. 



